


Baby It's Cold Outside

by Astrophilla, sunshinewinchesters



Series: Destiel Christmas Advent Calendar 2015 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 25 Days of Christmas, 25 Days of Destiel Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Destiel Advent Calendar 2015, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5346683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrophilla/pseuds/Astrophilla, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinewinchesters/pseuds/sunshinewinchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Christmas, Castiel gets called to return to Heaven. Dean is more than a little reluctant to let him go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

> Written by Astrophilla  
> Beta'd by sunshinewinchesters
> 
> Type: Canonverse AU, established Castiel/Dean, established Gabriel/Sam
> 
> **The third installation of our Destiel Advent Calendar!**

Dean’s lips stretched into a lazy smile as he basked in the warmth coming from the giant, cliche fireplace, stockings included, that Gabriel had poofed into the middle of the bunker’s library. 

His limbs ached from a whole damn day of “festivizing”, as the archangel called it, carrying boxes upon boxes of decorations up and down the stairs at Gabriel and Sam’s directions, lugging the ginormous Christmas tree around into hall until it was in the perfect place and chopping wood out in the blistering snow for the fire, because apparently magic angel firewood and christmas trees and string lights were “inauthentic”. 

Now the place looked like a Hallmark card, the archangel had smuggled his little brother away down to the bunker’s basement rooms under the guise of hunting for something to fashion an angel tree topper out of. 

“Why don’t you just mojo one up?” Dean glowered, watching with mock derision as Gabriel very unsubtly palmed at Sam’s ass through his jeans. 

“Cheating,” Gabriel sing-songed, hastily pulling Sam out of the room and into one of the bunker’s various labyrinthine corridors. “Don’t wait up!”

He snorted to himself at the thought, shaking his head as his sore arm wound around Castiel’s shoulder, the angel’s content face only inches from his as they curled up on the loveseat Gabriel had provided alongside the fireplace. 

“Next year, you guys are doing the heavy lifting. How come the puny mortals got the shit jobs?”

Castiel’s mouth quirked at the corners, his legs draped over Dean’s sweats-clad thighs. “Gabriel wanted you both to feel involved.” 

“Oh yeah, how decent of him,” Dean chuckled. 

Castiel smiled. “He knows the Winchesters didn’t have the happiest of childhood Christmases. It’s a little extravagant, I know, but giving you and Sam the chance for a “real” Christmas is high on his priority list this year. Try to humor him.” 

“Huh,” Dean murmured, fingers on the back of Castiel’s warm neck. “That’s… actually kinda nice of the little asshole.” 

Castiel shrugged, leaning into the touch. “He can be thoughtful, at times.”

“I guess,” Dean conceded. “Looks like we’re having a real Charlie Brown Christmas after all.” 

“So he hopes,” Castiel chuckled, his hot breath brushing Dean’s skin. 

Dean grinned, pressing an indulgent kiss to Castiel’s lips as they stretched out like lazy housecats in front of the fire, carols softly filling the air around them. Yeah, he thought, Castiel’s tongue dancing across his own. Gabriel’s Miracle on 34th Street wasn’t so bad after all.

He was humming contentedly, sucking Castiel’s lower lip between his teeth, when the angel froze in his arms. Dean cracked his eyes open, brows furrowed as he stared into the glazed over blue of Castiel’s own. 

“Cas?” Dean asked quietly, leaning away a little to see him better. “You okay, buddy?”

The angel came back to him with a small start, the haze suddenly clearing from his eyes. He blinked, lips pulling down at the edges into a small frown. “It appears that I’ve been summoned.” 

Dean’s heart dropped to his feet. “What, upstairs?” he asked, eyes wide. “Now?”

Castiel sighed, eyes full of remorse. “I’m sorry, Dean, but Hariel and—”

“Cas, it’s Christmas!” Dean cut in with an indignant scowl, arms tightening around Castiel’s waist as if brute force could keep him on the loveseat there with him. “They can’t draft you on your downtime, isn’t this a holiday the damn heavenly host should observe?” 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised, fingers dancing over Dean’s skin in apology.

Dean sighed, burying his face in Cas’ neck as he thickly swallowed. So much for his Charlie Brown Christmas.

“Yeah. Sure you can’t sit this one out?”

He felt rather than saw the angel shake his head. “I wish I could, you know I do,” he said, fingers threading through the hair at Dean’s nape. “I really can’t stay.”

Dean chuckled lowly despite the dark cloud over him. “Baby, it’s cold outside.”

Castiel was silent for a moment, hands stilling their ministrations, and Dean lifted his head to meet his confused eyes. “Outside of my vessel, I’m purely a wave of celestial intent, Dean. You know temperature fluctuations don’t affect me.”

Dean couldn’t help himself, he let out a deep, loud laugh. “Yeah,” he chortled, running his fingertips over the bridge of Castiel’s nose. “Yeah, I do know.”

Castiel extracted himself, a bemused look on his face as he stood. 

“But baby, it’s bad out there,” Dean smirked, slowly finding a melody as he came to his feet. “No cabs to be had out there.”

“I don’t…” Cas began, brows furrowed. Dean couldn’t stop himself from smiling, the ignorant dork was just too much. He closed the distance between them once more, arms coming around Castiel’s shoulders. 

“Your eyes are like starlight now,” he hums, bumping Castiel’s nose with his own, and watching as understanding dawned on the angel’s face.

“I think this is where you’re meant to tell me my hair looks swell,” Castiel murmured against his lips, and Dean blinked down at him in surprise.

“You know this?”

Cas nodded, pressing another peck to his chapped mouth. “I believe I picked it up from the movie Sam made us watch about elves.” 

Dean grinned. “I didn’t know you were paying attention.”

“Mmhm,” Cas hummed, burying his face in the juncture of Dean’s shoulder. “I ought to say no, no, no, sir,” he sang, the sound rich and sonorous.

“Mind if I move in closer?” Dean badly sang along, bringing their bodies flush.

“At least I’m gonna say that I tried,” the angel said, flashing Dean a mischievous grin as he pressed open mouthed kisses to the skin of Dean’s neck above the knit of his gaudy Christmas sweater.

Dean shook with silent laughter, eyes falling shut at the sensation. “What’s the sense in hurting my pride?”

Castiel’s chuckle was lost between their mouths, and Dean’s arms tightened around Cas’ waist as the angel pulled away, hair a mess and lips puffy. “There’s bound to be talk tomorrow,” he said gruffly, a smile tugging at his swollen mouth. “At least there will be plenty implied.” 

“Mmh,” Dean moaned, fingers edging under the hem of Castiel’s shirt and brushing over his bare skin. “Imagine my lifelong sorrow,” he breathed, a teasing smile on his lips, “if you caught pneumonia and died.” 

“Would be a terrible fate to befall me,” Castiel agreed lightheartedly, pulling back to brush the pads of his thumbs across Dean’s cheekbones.

This was where Dean wanted to be, every day, for the rest of forever. God, he was so happy his damn heart could burst, everyone he loved safe in their home, Cas wrapped up in his arms, and— 

Just like before, Castiel froze, like someone had hit his off switch. It hit him like stones sinking to the pit of his stomach, and his carefree grin faltered, slipping from his face as Castiel blinked, and was back with him.

“They’re impatient, huh? I guess you’d better go,” Dean sighed, fingers carding through the angel’s messy bedhead.

“I should,” Castiel nodded solemnly, but a smile began to curl at his lips. “But you’re right, it’s Christmas, and if Gabriel hasn’t yet been contacted, then the trifles of the Host can clearly wait. I want to be here with my family. With you.”

Dean blinked down at him with a dry mouth, heart swelling in his chest. “Really?”

“Of course,” Castiel beamed, pushing him back down onto the loveseat and climbing on top to straddle his lap. Fingers wound their way into Dean’s hair, and Castiel leaned in to tug at his lower lip with his teeth, flashing Dean a playful smirk. “It’s up to my knees out there, after all.”


End file.
